Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ For the First Time... ❯ For the First Time... ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

She had goose bumps all over. They were only an agonizing reminder at how numb she was supposed to be. But it was undeniable how heavy and dense the atmosphere that was slamming down against them was.

When her mind scanned over the situation and the options she had, for the millionth time in those warped, twisted, stretched moments that seemed to go on and on...she came to the conclusion that there was very little she could do. This sinfully ironic scene...familiar scene had been foreseen so many times in her minds eye, the first action that would come so naturally for her to do–she had done it so many times...in her dreams, she did not dare do... The reason it was so ironic was never, in a million years could have she truly believed it would actually come to be.
In her mind she had once seen, and now again saw the way the light flickered in his normally icy eyes which were now uncharacteristically fiery and glazed with unspeakable passion–and at that sight she had always drawn nearer and let herself give in. Why now was she restraining herself? She felt the sweat clinging to her skin and the temperature seeming to rise–the desire to remove her over coat was increasing as things got more and more uncomfortable. But what would he think if she only removed one thing, maybe it was only her imagination but he seemed to be searching her face for something–anything that indicated she wanted him, anything that would allow him to take her in his arms and...and...
Her eyelids slowly gave her eyes the only comfort they could by hiding them from his seductive silhouette from the now present moonlight devouring the darkness until it hit his back, where it stopped and only gave her the sight of his now darkened, mysterious figure. If only she had realized once she shut her eyes she would be seeing her desires and dreams playing out before her–seeing herself doing the things her soul was gasping for when it was drowning in a lake of reasoning, the only thing keeping it from breathing. Her fingers were running a marathon through his corse night-like hair which was black and endless–yet it contained the sparkling jewels that gleamed like celestial bodies–like stars. And she was finally becoming whole when her lips connected to his face as if he was the second, missing piece of her being. If only she could do all these things in reality, but when she opened her eyes she found herself still rooted to the same spot–feet away from him–holding herself down.
It was more painful when she was becoming increasingly more aware of his lips and the staggering manner they shuddered with the rest of his body–but more so than the rest of his body–when he struggled to bring that sweaty air through them. His eyes would not–perhaps could not–bring themselves away from her own. As the drapes were tossed in front of the moonlight’s path by a sudden gust of wind she could see his face a little more clearly. The yearning on it was unthinkable and she wished she could simply turn away–walk away–avoid what could lead to a collision course of disaster., if she let herself break...if she let herself give in...to that vast and immeasurable need to let her fingers trace his mouth, nose, cheeks, hair,–ears...eye lids...chest...if she let her lips caress...
Her mind began to leave those thoughts behind in order to keep her sanity and her actions under control...they began to linger on whether he would come to her instead–if that happened then...she wouldn’t be able to help it, it would her fault now would it? But, she figured they both knew they shouldn’t, it would shatter that thin glass that they stood upon, allowing them to fall into something inevitable. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t meant to be. She wasn’t supposed to be feeling these things. She was supposed to be the most professional of all the State Alchemists...she was supposed to...to–
She lost her thoughts abruptly when she felt his grasp on her shoulders his eyes searing intensely into her soul through her own eyes as he leaned in, a forced stone-like expression that was desperately trying to rid of the desire that once flourished on his face. But the fire in his eyes soon evaporated entirely. Once she coughed through the desert-like dryness of her throat, she found the will to speak.
“I’m sorry...don’t...look at me like that...” she managed to croak, the room spinning around her. She couldn’t bear to see him gaze at her with such a look–that contained no emotion, the fire in his eyes dying out–the ice freezing over again–the ice that kept her out.
“...don’t look at you like what?” he whispered and she saw the expression quickly fading the irrepressible passion returning in its place. She choked on any words she tried to force–any breathing she tried to accomplish–any movement to get away– “...like what?” He repeated, a solemn look on his face, but his eyes still blazed with a violent fire in them.
“...you should let go of me, I’m afraid it’s not appropriate...” When the words got out, so horribly stern and official, she wished she could punch herself. To her well hidden relief he did not release her shoulders, immediately after feeling this relief, however–she scolded herself mentally. She couldn’t desire him like this...she had to stop this before it began...nick it before the seed germinated...and the problem spun out of control... He studied her carefully, as if he could sense the lie in her voice–and the lie she was telling herself–really see the need her soul had to breathe–to be loved.
After this silence had stretched on so long, it finally seemed as if he would pull away, the expression on his face seemed to scream that decision to her so loudly. She closed her eyes again, she would NOT leap up and kiss him–stop him, she would let the opportunity pass, the moment die, and forget. Yet immediately after she told herself this mentally, she knew she never would forget–it would haunt her for the rest of her damn life, but it would have to be this way. But when she opened her eyes, rather then finding him to be pulling away from her, he was leaning nearer and nearer... He dipped down approaching the bend where her neck and shoulder connected and she knew what he was going to do. She had to stop him.
“Please...” she begged, but despite herself she closed her eyes–only imagining his lips on her sweaty and shivery skin. A moment later her everything was simmering...melting...dripping down and sliding to the ground when his lips had met their mark, his tongue prodding her skin–shoulder and neck–hungrily, tantalizingly, testing her limit when she let out gasps, ohs, and ahs...his lips traveling over her goose bumps and he sucked harder, but she felt his lips lighten their strong hold of her flesh and felt his teeth emerge to nibble her softly.
His hands placed themselves on his either side of her waist, but she hardly noticed though her thoughts cut through her taboo ecstasy to inquire what would happen next. As if to answer them his right hand slid down her leg and his fingers gripped at the bottom hem of her skirt, but they released it and his hand began to make it way up under the skirt at what seemed to be a second thought. Her breaths became harder and faster as she struggled with herself about the wisest suggestion, she ripped away from him.
“W-wait...” she stammered hoarsely, as his lips lost contact with her. He seemed thoroughly irritated and vexed by this action, a frown forming on his face.
“Dammit, Kiza,” he grunted, grasping the edges of her coat and pulling her close to him forcefully.
“That’s Lieutenant Hawkeye to you,” she said briskly, pulling away and straightening her clothes. There was a heated minute when they both faced each other with what appeared to be hostile expressions, but the arousal was plain in their eyes. Kiza battled hers with everything she had, but she felt her strength faltering under his gaze. Slowly, through the invisible barrier of reason Liza was putting between them, he was approaching her. It was apparent he wouldn’t listen to reason anymore the only thing he wanted to heed at this point was his incredible obsession with the thought of having his hands on her body--
He gently pulled her to him and leaned in farther and farther, his nose brushing past hers his lips moving irresistibly when he murmured, “You might think you’re relaxing and living it up when you dress in your frilly blouse, brand name coat, and tight jean skirt, but still during your vacation...” he paused and planted his hand on the back of the french knot in Kiza’s hair, “You still can’t let your damned hair down...” he whispered seductively in her ear and he kissed her in a violent motion, pulling the barrettes and hair ties out of her head as vehemently as he had kissed her letting the golden veil of once confined sunlight that was her golden locks, drift down and dribbling through his fingers and down her neck. He engulfed both hands in the now vast river of hair on Kiza’s head and pushed her to him with his elbows, still enwrapping her in quick, blistering, and endless kisses as his hands grasped, yanked, swam through, and fingered her hair with the sliding of their mouths quick and desperate, a far stronger and more vibrant echo of what each had envisioned for so long.
The next thing Kiza hardly felt, like that slight poke at the back of your mind reminding you of the business reason you called a friend in the middle of your fun-filled discussion far off track, concerning friends and gossip, was the feel of him removing her coat and that nagging half of her saying, “Kiza, you know what’s going to come of this, nothing good, nothing good.”
To say the least she ignored it, ripping the army coat off the ebony-haired man she was kissing in a fervor, tearing off his bullet proof vest underneath and the many layers she found as if she was in a race. He didn’t seem to mind whatsoever and responded by slowly bringing her down with him onto one of the leather covered seats in that vast, dark, library. Before she knew it, even though they were moving so sluggishly, she could feel his hands making their way up along her back, under her blouse and though she felt she’d explode with anticipation and the excruciating heat and excitement so forcefully pressing them together she had to ask, gasping for air and in between kisses, “Why–don’t–you–just–un–buttonR 11;it...” Her voice was so breathy and needy she hardly believed it was her own. A chuckle escaped him, vibrating her entire body.
“Because...I’d...screw it up...” he admitted, though Kiza could tell he did so reluctantly. She soon understood him when for the first time she realized his hands were shaking on the sweaty skin of her back. Though she tried to restrain it when his lips fell around hers again, she couldn’t help laughing which she hoped he didn’t realize when he kissed her. He was nervous of all things, the great Roy Mustang, nervous and awkward like a school boy! It was funny, ironic, maybe cute, and...she slowly came to realize...sexy...

“Lieutenant, I trust you’ve heard news about what the Elric brothers found...the one ingredient to the Philosopher’s Stone that could cause quite a problem...” Roy turned to the blond woman behind him that had an extremely stone-like expression that suited one in the military quite well which his usual cocky grin. Her face soon became unreadable.
“Sir, you knew all along...so why are you acting as if this is news?” she inquired bitterly, not very keen on being summoned in the middle of her much needed vacation to be pestered about matters she already knew of and didn’t really agree with in the first place. He strolled among the books, a mousy, brown haired girl ducking down behind the desk she was so diligently working at.
“It was at a different library other than this one...but...Lieutenant Hughes has that book worm working here for him...what should our next move be, Hawkeye.” She grunted in reply still glaring at him.
“Sometimes I wonder about you decisions, Colonel, I hope you know that...”
“I do,” he said, his grin only widening, “sorry for interrupting your well deserved vacation, Lieutenant, I like your skirt by the way.” Sometimes he could be such a jack ass, the way he said “well deserved” was purely sarcastic and the comment about her skirt was simply ridicule.
“Don’t mock me, sir, I came as you asked.”
“I’m not mocking you, lieutenant,” if it was possible his grin grew larger, “you look truly unlike yourself, that’s a compliment.” A sigh escaped her, an exasperated, weary one, with a mixture of...could it be, hurt? Maybe Roy was imagining things....
“Can I go now, I believe I am still on vacation, sir...” she inquired soldier-like, the sunset’s orange glare batting her face. She was incredibly beautiful, her hair shining in a quite lovely manner resembling a very rich caliber of golden silk. Roy felt the shields that had been so heavily guarding him all this time begin to diminish...to fall away the longer he allowed himself to stare at her. He’d never let himself look at her quite this long before... “...Colonel Mustang?”
“I am entirely serious when I say...Kiza...” he paused when she gasped at the sudden and uncharacteristic usage of her first name, “...you look very beauti–I mean...nice...” Roy felt the air around him heat up exceedingly as Kiza stared at him for several long moments,. He told himself over and over in his mind how stupid he had been for saying what he had and now...she was entirely shocked...perhaps deeply disconcerted by his unusual behavior. He failed to read the desire in her eyes.

When she thought about how the moments that lead up to this, they seemed so far away, as if they were in a different lifetime or a dream, it was quite a strange feeling as what was happening had occurred so many times in dreams itself, now everything else that had once been a solid reality around this dream seemed fake and now–that all their fantasies were being realized...her only soul wish was that everything else could simply melt away...disappear for good.
Her mind stopped dwelling on such things every time he touched her in the right place...in such an inconceivably sensual way she couldn’t help crumbling under him. Though she had always served under him she never handed him absolute power over her, now she couldn’t help herself, every time she screamed his name she was giving herself to him, little by little. But, ultimately, she couldn’t care less at the moment, she only hoped he didn’t stop.
Though his hands had been shaking at some points which only reminded Kiza that he was still human and not some god, they sure showed no restraint about where they touched. Everywhere, they would explore, and it seemed his mission was to make every inch of her feel more wonderful then they ever had in her life. When he finally took off her last remaining article of clothing, her khaki, jean skirt, Kiza found she was the one couldn’t stop shaking. When he pressed up against her naked body roughly, though she wore absolutely nothing, and he was now finding his way inside her and she was certain she was giving herself in her entirety to him also certain she should feel so vulnerable, she had never felt safer. Her body tingled from head to toe as if she could still feel his finger tips and his mouth on various places, but now he was gripping her hair and kissing her mouth gently. Only she felt the roots in her scalp screaming for relief of Roy’s pull, yet it felt so far away, the sound of her cries of pleasure echoed through those empty, dusty halls, she gripped his sweaty back pulling him in further, as their lips were parted for sometime the both of them struggling for air.
At the moment she was sure she felt more like a woman than she e ver had. All her life she had been competing against men. She was raised with nine brothers, all older than her, and everyone always acknowledged her as the sweet, adorable, cute little baby girl, until she proved them wrong. She did so by out shining all her brothers in sports, hunting, mechanics and any other male pursuit she could beat them in. She participated in every eating contest, every loogie-spitting, horse shoe throwing, arm wrestling, who could do the most push ups, pool, every contest her brothers and their guy friends competed in, every one except who could pee the farthest standing up and she won almost all of them.
When she entered the military nothing changed, all her life she had ben trying to convince everyone that she was the farthest thing from a woman that was womanly possible. Many points in her life, she had wished she wasn’t a woman at all because of the sexist and biased treatment she had received in being one. But now, for the first time she was glad to be a woman and had no desire to tape her breasts down so men wouldn’t be distracted by the fact she wasn’t male. In fact she had never been more aware that she had them, never been able to embrace who she was more than the time encompassed in those precious moments. When Roy’s hands had traveled over her curves, every feminine aspect of her body, up until that point she had been able to disconnect herself from the fact she had them in the first place, and those moments when she felt whole for so many reasons.
She grasped onto him needily in an attempt to bring him in farther, kissing him, he pulled away a little gasping desperately for as his fingers ran up and down her spine. The feel of him inside her was so unearthly, so unbelievable, she still couldn’t get over it. And though, she often could feel his fingers on her skin, or in her hair, when he hand fell away from his neck or his back, away from him onto the leather, he followed it quickly with his own hand and squeezed it lovingly, every time Kiza felt her breaths shudder.
Though she had known for so long, and had been true for even longer than she’d known, she never had had the ability to say it. She removed his lips from his nosing his left cheek and breathing harshly as she managed to whisper to him, “...I don’t want to scare...you...” she laughed hoping that he would allow her to call him it because she loved to say it at the moment, “...colonel, but...” she took in another breath gasping still a little hesitant, “...I love you...”


The sun rose, the light penetrating the room through the window. Nothing stirred. Nothing moved. There wasn’t one sound. A sparkle of sun could be seen peaking over Colonel Mustang’s bare back, Lieutenant Hawkeye’s arm hung delicately over the edge of the easy leather chair from under his body. Little did they know another living being was in that room with them. But they still remained in dream land.
Wide-eyed, eyes blood shot, face slightly pale, and deep circles lining her eyes, the face of a young girl was visible from behind massive piles of files and papers. Some of which were stamped, others of which remained unsealed and incomplete. She sighed as she folded her arms under her chin on the surface of her desk, Sheska closed her eyes a thoughtful slight smile on her face. “Well...I’m pretty sure I wasn’t supposed to see that...” The only thing that gave her peace of mind was how romantic it all was. She had had her own experience with Roy and he wasn’t exactly the nicest person or the most warm one. She cackled as she sat up placing the military seal on another document. “I SO have him totally wrapped, I mean I can TOTALLY blackmail him! Book store gift cards here I come!”


The sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky and a gentle breeze toyed with Roy’s dark, dark hair which contrasted nicely with Kiza’s sun-kissed locks. They gazed out into the vast, blue ocean which stretched out before them like an endless memory. One that was inescapable, and both were thinking the very same thing.
“We aren’t...going to do that again, Kiza...what happened last night...”
“Was it a mistake, is that what you mean, Colonel?” she inquired over-solemnly and was clearly about to burst into laughter. He didn’t reply, she still refused to call him Roy most of the time, but he remember when she’d moaned his real name a number of times and he couldn’t stop a smile from decorating his face.
“It has to end...”
“That’s what you said before...then we did it a second time...and then a third...and a fourth–you know, I don’t think you really want it to end as badly as you say, Colonel. And why would you?” she inquired with a sunny smile that Roy found hard to look away from.
“It’s just...I can’t keep buying gift cards for the Sheska...and books...and more books...and...well...it’s getting a little out of hand...”he responded looking a bit insane at the possibility of entering another book store whatsoever.
“But she only saw us the first time, why does it matter if we’re together more...it’s not as if she knows, does she?” It took him several moments to reply.
“...well...it seems she manages our schedules and knows when we both report to the staff to take our breaks at the same time and notify them of our destinations which both happen to be unusually close together...well, she’s no idiot, obviously. Damn, smart kid unfortunately and it seems she can figure out what’s going on...” Kiza studied him with a worriless expression when she finally turned her gaze away from him and shook her head, smiling still.
“Don’t be silly...”
“I shouldn’t be...” he returned, suddenly becoming very somber, “...you...shouldn’t be with me, you know...not after everything that...happened...” he trailed off and hesitated, looking closely at the flow of the ocean below the deck they sat on, “...how can you settle for me? I’m too...unpredictable...I’m a mess. You know that sometimes I want to...” he clenched his hands into fists, “...kill myself....”
Kiza studied him long and hard, her smile was long gone by this time. The sadness and guilt, he painful clench at his stomach that had been plaguing him so often ever since he had given in and kissed Kiza intensified to an unbearable point. All this time he knew it wouldn’t be right for someone as unbelievably amazing as the woman sitting beside him to be with such a tormented and tainted soul, especially not to risk her career for such a questionable person who she could lose any day now. Hopefully, now, she realized this, but even if it was the only way he could make Kiza happy, he still felt his insides ripping apart, burning up at the thought of never feeling her hair in his hands, her soft skin, her lips with is own. Everything he had done in his past...it would never stop chasing him, until it finally consumed him, he would NOT let it devour Kiza along with him.
The silence was heart wrenching as the wind whistled pitifully past them. He was sure she was slowly beginning to realize she couldn’t be with him...that he was as unstable as anything. His heart screamed out for someone to make the pain stop as she took his hand gently and stood up, he did stand with her and she gazed at him with the most sickening sympathetic look. The only reason it was so nauseating was simply because it was the last emotional glance he’d get from her...
But, he was nearly knocked off his feet in shock when she clutched him quickly and kissed him with all the force and passion she could muster making him powerless in her arms. When she finally pulled away from him, leaving him utterly breathless and unable to protest or speak just yet she said, “You suffer so much...you say you want to kill yourself some days...that’s why...” he waited for it to come with a wince, “...I have to stay with you.” When she kissed him again with almost equal fire, he wondered how she could accomplish it.
“So we’re going to keep on...I have no idea where this is going to end up...trouble...that’s all it’ll lead up to...” he breathed shaking his head, a grin remaining none the less.
“All I know is, wherever we wind up because of it...I don’t care where it is, as long as I’m with you.” he was a little surprised by how much this statement affected him, but he quickly got over it, and he couldn’t help smiling broadly.
“Me too.” And for the first time he actually felt he knew exactly who he was. And what he really had wanted. All along.